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Fable N. Saffron

"There may very well be, no real winners in this war."

0 · 618 views · located in Tilt

a character in “Caelum Fatales”, as played by Rainbow Unicorns

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« Tell me, what's better? A lady of leisure, or one who has known what work is. To work harder than those who pass by, to see the work steadily and turn it into a form of art, and to see it all the way completely is something far more respectable rather than society's standards. I have seen many leave for war with the weapons my mother and I have prepared, and I have had the comfort to know a woman can do a man's job if not better than that of the male species. »

⌠Immortals | Fall Out Boys⌡

Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ ◆ Naoto Fuyumine ❘ Pᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ Bʏ ◇ Rainbow Unicorns

Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #BCC6CC ❘ Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇#98AFC7
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↪FULL NAME↩
⌊ Fable N. Saffron ⌉
⌊FAY • Ble ❘ A story, or a tale to be told. Sometimes taken as that of a false comment or fictional. ⌉

⌊NO • va | A new, bright star. ⌉

⌊Saf • fron | That of a spice, Saffron can also be considered a color name via its distinctive yellow hue. ⌉


↪TITLE(S)↩
⌊ Saffy, Nova, Fay, Fronny, or even Noble. While she doesn't mind them per say, she doesn't often hear them. ⌉

↪GENDER↩
⌊ Female ⌉

↪AGE↩
⌊ Seventeen ⌉

↪ROLE↩
⌊ Blacksmith / Civilian Child / Ordinary ⌉

↪SEXUALITY↩
⌊ Heterosexual - Panromantic ⌉



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"While I could say you're blind, or that you should use your eyes better, I suppose I cannot blame you for wishing to look at me with closer observation. I have quite a few more scars and markings than one would believe rest on a mere child... But, it is apparent my mother and I are complete opposite appearance-wise."
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↪HEIGHT ❖ WEIGHT↩
⌊ Five feet and six inches; one hundred and nineteen pounds ⌉

↪HAIR COLOR↩
⌊ Typically that of an onyx coloring, Nova is in fact a natural midnight blue, just in a darker tone. Lighting and tones can easily shift this color, however, to that of a dark chocolate or damp wood. ⌉

↪EYE COLOR↩
⌊ A seemingly shifting pair of colored eyes, it's normal for Nova's eyes to shit from it's dark steel blue, dark enough to be considered black even, to flash a quick crystal aqua. This is all depending on her position however, or how someone looks at her as well as the room's lighting. However, if one does look deep enough into her eyes there's a dark, reddish circle around the irises, easily standing out. ⌉

↪SKIN TONE↩
⌊ Perfect porcelain with rose undertones ⌉

↪SCARS ❖ BIRTHMARKS ❖ ETC.↩
⌊ A large X scar on the center of her chest, going underneath both breasts. ⌉

↪GENERAL APPEARANCE↩
⌊ With an aura of reservation and unapproachability, Fable seems to be exactly the type of girl that would fit perfectly within the caste of the elite; untouchable by those deemed 'normal'. Shielded by her heritage, her mother, from the prying eyes of the standard masses, such coverings only seem to magnify her mysteriously unnatural beauty. Though, one glance and it isn't extraordinarily difficult to understand why others stare. With the impressive height of five feet and six inches, and weighing only one hundred nineteen pounds, the onyx-haired girl possesses a naturally full hour-glass shape to her frame, her clothes fitting her perfectly no matter what she does. Of course.. those are merely just stated observations in regards to how Fable is judged by others...and those opinions are polar opposites to her true inner thoughts. Viewing her body, her very appearance, with disgust, it has become quite painful for this poor girl to even glance at her own reflection through a passing mirror...and that's all due to her mind, simply, not permitting herself to register the same train of thought as her society does.

With silk midnight blue locks of hair grazing at the mid-back of her neck, each strand being a strikingly unnatural shade of black or blue, one can easily see as to why Nova's presence can be interrupted as 'beautiful'.. Styled in such a manner bangs hang neatly around her face and resting on her forehead, providing a frame against her crafted features, many, instantly, akin this girl to be reminiscent of a story book character. However, those doll-esque tresses do more than just merely provide a recognizable fashion statement; the hue further provides contrast against her skin. As though it was in nature's original design to craft a perfect being, Fable's canvas, in spite of the hideous scar of an X, is that of a perfect porcelain, indications of rose undertones noticeable when examined closely.

It is a common belief that the eyes are the window to a person's soul....and with formerly ebullient, doe-esque eyes of a steel blue hue, Nova's gaze tells a story one soon won't forget. With an enigmatic presence, this particular woman has the ability to draw a person inward, to make all who gaze come closer in order to examine the pair even more closely than before. As most will attest, several aspects of Fable will reveal themselves the longer one is entranced by those complex swirls of slate gray, black, navy and steel blue... including all of the bottled-in pain that is so, blatantly, visible to the world. ⌉


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"Learning about a person, about what makes them tick and what makes them breathe is truly the greatest step any human or... Blessed could make."
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↪THE - SOUL - WITHIN - THE - GLASS↩
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⌠ Let the darkness come for me, let it try to steal my soul. ⌡
⌠ As if I had a soul to steal. ⌡

───────────────────────────────────────────────────

The war between good and evil is one not many win. For their entire life, it's a constant struggle between the forces of the light and the darkness. If Fable's learned anything though, is that people are just that. A tale spun into a web of myths and lies. Nova's grown to be intelligent, street-wise. A motto for her to live by? "What comes from darkness is not always evil, and what comes from the light is not always good." While the war around her rages on, she struggles to overcome her own internal battle, between her rage and her compassion.

She's a stoic force to be reckon with. Her face commonly straight and blank, it's hard to know what she's thinking about. Secrets flood this girl's very being, swarming inside her brain as she watches and observes. While people don't see her often as something that could be a problem, she's quite the opposite. She's a being capable of anger, of hate, of pure and undying murderous intent.

Stubborn? Cliche adjectives? Those could be thrown at Fay's person as well, as those traits are all something a person who breathes has. It's simply the fact if their shown, or acknowledged. Fable's known to come to the aid of many, with or without reward, and even be the kindest soul many know. It all just depends on the person at hand.

Then, when it comes to making tough calls and choices, once Nova sets her mind to something there is only a one in a billion chance she'll let her views on a matter shift. She's incredibly hard to convince, and she'll always somehow act right away to prevent people from stopping her later on. Now, that can easily get her hurt, and it actually had before, but you won't hear that form her.

All in all, Fable can be a bit... complicated, when describing her personality. The cliches, and the unusual all seeming to fit inside such a tiny body.



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        ✧ Blacksmithing - Born and raised at the heart of every weapon, Fable and her 'master' have always been at the top of their game. A new sword? Got it. Fixing it? Even better. She doesn't disappoint, and the newer and more unique the challenge, even if the object will not be used for war, it inspires her very being.

        ✧ Swords - A sharp object, and one of the first things she ever crafted on her own with her master's guidance. Her most prized possession, especially when someone decided to teach her how to use it, and ever since she takes her practice seriously, as well as keeping up her speed and agility.

        ✧ Canines - Dogs can be trained to bite, to destroy, but they can also be fairly decent companions. The only creatures who'll sit with you as you lie dying, or sit with you as you sit injured. They are what Nova feels to be the most compassionate creatures yet.

        ✧ Birds - Freedom, to put it in short. Their wings, their ability to fly to distant lands... Things that fascinate her more than anything. Especially when one takes into consideration what each color and species represent.

        ✧ Lightning - Mixed with the crackle and boom, lightning is the world's natural nightlight. Also, the world's best firework show yet. Seeing her room light up from the flashing lights in the dead of night seems to put the female at some sort of ease.

        ✧ Observation - For the sake of keeping it short, observation could be the enemy's downfall.

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        ✧ "Granted" - Yes, the word itself is something Nova hates with a firey passion. Taking anything for granted makes Fable angry, for the simplest of terms. For all those who have been privileged enough to have such articles of life, there have been far more innocent lives stolen just to have something a quarter as rewarding.

        ✧ Cats - The spawns of hell, being a natural dog person it isn't very surprising that little Fay has a sore spot towards the animals... Even though it's a smaller part of her life than she's willing to admit.

        ✧ War without reason - The death and destruction of lives should not be a causality that can be so easily accepted. Thousands will lose fathers, mothers, sisters, daughters, sons... The option to lose everything is great.

        ✧ Those who are eager to belittle - Everyone is capable of things that are their own strengths. Just because one person is unable to do something the other is, does it make them any less important?

        ✧ Leisure time - with the ability to make something of one's life, who would rather sit back and do simply nothing? While she doesn't mind leisure time much, she doesn't typically just... lay around. She's always out doing something, learning something, exploring.

        ✧ Heat - She pretty much melts in intense heat, getting a bit more irritable and distant during such. She doesn't work well under the conditions, unless she's able to go have time in the shade to cool off.

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        Fable is a skilled blacksmith, even for someone of her age. Being raised by a hammer and the heat of the metal itself, Fable and her master have never been known to give anything but the very best at what they do, and it doesn't simply include weapons. Anything people needed made out of some sort of metal. Her strength and patience fairly decent, people have a tendency to be surprised when Nova's working even through the dead of the night.

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    Overworking is a primary flaw, but when nervous or confused, Fable (without meaning too) has a tendency to take a step back and cough. When angry though, however, Fable's first instant is to stretch or bite her knuckle.

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    ✧ Sword fighting - After a trade of a new weapon for sword lessons, she's made it a point to constantly practice and harness her skill. Mixed with her observation and agility, one might even say she was pretty damn good with it, if the time ever needed it. She much rather be behind her station, working away the day.

    ✧ Observation - Something that, if properly done, can tell you an enemy's tactics. How they work, how they live... It can even prove resourceful in the wild or in new locations, or simply keeping any eye out around the team.

    ✧ Agility - The ability to run, jump, and dodge is a fairly important one if one wants to be resourceful with a weapon of any type. That, and the strength to use them.


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    ✧ Directions - while her observations may be keen, this woman has little to no sense of direction. Easily lost in unfamiliar places, she wouldn't ever be able to tell you which was was north and which way was south..
    ✧ Nobility - Most of the nobility Fable has met has either seemed like a completely arrogant fool, or simply down right cruel. While she refuses to admit it, a few rotten apples defiantly ruined the batch.
    ✧ Anger - While she isn't known for her wrath, knowing a woman who'd rather slice your throat open isn't always a plus.

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"I'd rather not speak about the past, or my friends and family. They deserve the right to stay out of my affairs..."
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↪PERSONALITY↩
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⌠ The past can either break a person, or make them. ⌡
───────────────────────────────────────────────────

Disowned, and strong. The entire meaning of Fable's life has been based on those around her, but to look at such features and traits, one has to look into the daughter's history itself. Born from Lumina Saffron and Revere ██████, Revere being of course the Noble and Lumina being a simple commoner and a blacksmith's aid, who'd later become an important part of Fay's life. While Lumina and Revere were madly in love, the child that soon followed was out of wedlock, leading to a quick cover up marriage. Neither of Revere's still breathing parents approved, and since they were so young having Fable, the situation was... decent, at best.

Eventually, the marriage was quickly turning to that of a sham, Lumina's eyes straying to that of the blacksmith when Fay was around three or four years of age. Devastated, Revere refused to allow the child and her mother to be together, keeping the child and kicking the 'disgraceful, ungrateful woman' out back to her 'lover's' arms. Eventually, within the year Revere was noticing almost too many similarities. The way her eyes lit up, the color of her eyes, and the softness of her hair...

Her joy.

It was strange he was only noticing it all now, but it was far too late to beg and woo the woman he grown so fond of... As far as he was concerned, he couldn't handle having such a child roaming around him, and not only gave Fable up to her mother under the terms of secrecy and because of this fact, disowned her. Lumina quickly agreed, desperately just wanting her child back into her life. Not to mention, Fable would eventually go approach her father on her own terms.

Growing up, the blacksmith, Caspian, had made it a point to teach Fable seriously between her mother's schooling. The way one properly dealt with the metal, blacksmith general safety tips, everything. It wasn't until she hit fourteen she was actually able to make her first object, a sword. Over the weeks, months of proper preparation and dedication, she was being watched. The watcher was a military man who went by the name of Archer, a fellow sword lover and enthusiast. The moment that sword was complete, and that girl's eyes lit up was when Archer made an approach. Around twenty at the time, Archer had picked up the ways of the sword at fifteen. He was a fresh recruit, and a loyal one.

Offering to teach little Nova how to properly use a sword, she jumped at the offer, ecstatic. From then on, the training was mixed with the original two portions until she went to confront the man she found out to be her father. How that conversation went, and how she found out though remains to be that of a mystery.

When the war began, Fable knew it was all over. She knew the side of her mother and master, and the side of Archer. Rebellion and militia, as she was forced into a side she wished nothing to do with. For either team. Archer tried to aid in the adjust, but knowing she would one day face those who raised her had her stomach in a complete knot... But she was unable to do a thing.

She was helpless.

So begins...

Fable N. Saffron's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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Errond Station|Drafting Selection|8:43 AM
The air was stifling and uncomfortably warm. The scent of sweat and general odors hung in the air like a cloud, choking Lucretia's other senses. She pulled her collar over her nose, breathing in her own scent of flour and strawberries, mixed with that undeniable twinge of iron that came with blood. It comforted her, if only a little bit.

Lucretia dropped the fabric, but her smell lingered in her nose. A man bumped into her and she shifted uncomfortably. There were too many people jammed into the small station, each hand clinging to a ticket and another piece of paper with the word SUMMONS printed in large red letters. Soldiers would have been more fitting... she thought absently as she tucked back a piece of her short violet hair. In the dark light of the underground station, it looked black and almost shadow like. "Western Combat Unit Six." Lucretia's ears perked up and she turned towards the burly man that had said the number. "Car 14."

He began rattling off names, but Lucretia already knew what Unit she was in and now, she knew where she was supposed to go. She turned to the taller boy next to her. Only a year older in age. "My Lord, I believe that is us," she said in a curt and quiet tone. The announcer had already moved on to the next Combat unit and she could see a few people filtering towards Car 14. If they missed their train, they would be put on the front lines without training. Thus was the law of Tilt. "Shall we go?" she offered him a small, but tentative smile. To most, it would be considered "polite".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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"Allow me to pave the way. . ."



[ Trisha's Lullaby |FMA:Brotherhood OST ]


Dialouge Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #291096
Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #c9ab02
╚╝


Bellamy glanced about the station he was in. The smell alone was positively revolting. Too many unwashed bodies pressed together in a small area, well anyone would be able to divine that. Bell looked over to his shorter companion, his right-hand, Lucretia. She was also suffering from the stench. The mention of WCU6 drew Bell's attention right away, even before Lucretia mentioned it.

"Let's go." Bell stated as he took Lucretia's hand in his and made his way towards Car 14. As he walked, dragging her with him, Bellamy's mind wandered off. He felt a pain in his eye bringing him back, his free hand instinctively went up to cover it. His grip tightened on Lucretia. It didn't matter how much this "gift" of his hurt, it only drove him further towards his goals.

Once they arrived at Car 14 Bellamy helped Lucretia inside and sat beside her, making sure she was near him at all times. He felt assured whenever she was beside him. A calm presence letting him know he was supported. Her hand still in his, Bell looked over to her, observing her with judging eyes. No matter how many times he observed her, it always bore the same results. She was totally content and devoted. Nodding to himself Bell spoke.

"Well Lucy, what do you expect to find upon arrival? More incompetence? Or perhaps something of interest for once in a great while?" Bellamy chuckled a bit, he always liked hearing her opinions, she was the only person besides himself that he listened to. After all, on his chess-board she was the Queen to his King. His loyal servant, friend, and executioner. Out of all the people in his life, Lucretia was the only one he could ever truly trust. Making her his strength, but also his Achilles heel. If anything were to happen to Lucretia, Bellamy knew he would lose himself. It was as if at times she was the only thing holding him together. The small violet haired girl had a special place within him, and he hated to admit it but he truly cared for her.

The throbbing in his eye became more intense. "My curse is acting up. . .We must be getting close to something great. Don't you think Lucy?" Bellamy asked looking to her, his cursed eye flickering red. Only Lucretia knew about his curse, only she knew of the burden he carried.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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The station was just about as unglamorous as they came, royalty and commoner treated the same. Loathe as she was to admit it, Mei had gotten used to life behind the high walls. She forgot that a good portion of the population didn't have access to proper amenities, and a large number of them were within the confines with her. She kept a hand on her charge's back, body blocking for her as the brunette paved a way for them both. Now where were they supposed to go?

"Hold our papers for a bit, Miss Athena, since I'll be handling our things." Since this was a summon to war, they were only asked to bring basic items hence the manageable amount of baggage. A bag hung over her shoulder, another on the hand that was near Athena. When she heard someone call out the details of their unit, Mei immediately started herding the much younger girl towards the correct car. She heard both their names, almost calling out an instinctive "here!" before realizing they didn't care either way. If you didn't make the train, you'd still get sent to war. Might as well get some survival tips if the result was still going to be the same.

The brunette made sure Athena was properly seated before she figured out anything else, finding an empty booth. "Save the seat beside you for me, alright?" She gave the girl a pat on the head, then grabbed their luggage off the seat. She could hear others settling down, conversing amongst themselves. No one she recognized. Unfortunate, but expected. Athena wasn't very social to begin with, so Mei's own social circle never expanded beyond the estate walls. When she'd managed to stow both their bags, she returned to Athena, taking the seat beside her.

"Do you recognize anyone, Miss? I'm afraid everyone's a stranger so far." Mei fixed the bun in her hair, the style coming loose during the crowd on the station. She used a short strip of ribbon to keep it in place, using her power briefly to create a tight knot. Not that anyone would see; her hand was blocking the view and to others it would simply appear that the brunette used her hands to tie her hair. If one decided to take extreme notice, they'd realize she had a large number of ribbons on her person. One in her hair, another bound around her hands, and then another acting as a belt around her waist. Even the laces around her shoes, if one counted those. It's unlikely Mei will ever use those though. She's not that desperate. "I could hold the seats across us if there's anyone you know."

"In any case, we'll have to share with at least two other people." She briefly peered out to the walkway, where she saw others still climbing in from the entrance. "Let's try not to make enemies of anyone on the way to there, alright?" The statement sounded rather cheeky, but considering how Athena acted sometimes... not exaggerated. And Mei really did want some peace before she got forced into fighting. "While there will be some people in WCU6 we won't agree with, it won't do us any good to start fighting before we even get off the train."


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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#, as written by Kirsche
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Caterina pushed her way through the throngs of people ambling about the train station. She'd be given the wrong directions twice now, and she still hadn't found the train she was supposed to get on. Some of the draftees around her were complaining about the smell, but Caterina rolled her eyes at this; the prisons and hovels she'd visited to carry out the King's Justice had made the station seem like a breath of fresh air.

After several minutes of struggling through the crowd, Caterina considered pulling down her hood to bank on the fact she was the Headman's Pride to part the sea of people. Then again, it was doubtful that all of these peasants would know what the Headman's Pride looked like. More likely than not, the peasants only knew of the Headman's Pride as a name to scare children. She sighed with this realization; it would be nice if she was more well known as the one who carried out justice and upheld the laws of the land.

As she continued through the station, Caterina thought back to the events that brought her here. Shortly after the death of the late King, the Lords of Tilt began squabbling over who would now rule the Kingdom. She had never particularly cared about supporting any one claimant, but she'd removed those she deemed unworthy to succeed the King. In the end, her pruning had drawn the ire of many lords , and enough of them had banded together to kill her along with many of the former advisers of the King. Only the intervention of powerful lords who either wanted to protect her for a variety of reasons, or have leverage in the future, managed to nail out a compromise to have Caterina go rebel hunting and likely die in the process. Now, the corruption of the Kingdom would have to be dealt by others who still believed in justice and the Royal Family.

Now, thanks to both her previous occupation and her "friends" in the capital, Caterina was the leader of one of the new units drafted up for war. She'd received the dossiers and photographs of the a few nights ago to peruse at her leisure. This motley collection of lords, peasants, and the oh so blessed children were supposed to be here by now, but then again it was a very crowded station. It took her a while to finally reach the train, but she was inwardly relieved to see that some of the members of her unit were starting to arrive. If there were no shows, Western Combat Unit 6 would be under strength and unable to carry out any orders. After getting on the train, she attempted to find the cart or carts that were supposed to hold her unit.

" Cart 14..." she breathed as she looked into each one, looking for just about anyone from her unit. It occurred to her that perhaps she didn't want to sit next to some of them based off of what she had read in the dossier's she'd been given. Shuffling through the stack of papers as she walked, Caterina decided to find the daughter of Lord Fausta; he'd been one of the lords kind of enough to help her get far away from the mess of politics in the capital, so his daughter couldn't be all that bad.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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Out of everything in her life, Fable never expected to be forced into this... stupidity. What a plot twist. In this war, Nova wished nothing more than to dissolve into thin air, and there was no amount of Archer's 'comfort' that could aid such a desperate wish. Her mother and master were now her enemies, and her father? Well... That was a relatively difficult topic. Obviously, it was in favor of the late king, much like---

"--y! Hey!" Archer's voice boomed next to Fable's ear, waiting outside the door of the empty blacksmith house. There wouldn't be anyone inside it for quite awhile besides the neighbor. Her eyes grew cold as she glanced back to it, simply snapping her head back to Archer as they began to walk to Errond Station. "You know, you're going to be fine, Fay..."

What a bunch of--

"Sighh. I know, Archer. You can stop babying me." Sword secured around her body, her pace had picked up as she refused to leave it behind. The white haired adult could only laugh and sprout some nonsense about her dearest possession-- she wasn't exactly the happiest camper.

It sounded like she had made it just in time, as the moment she stepped inside the station, "Western Combat Unit Six, Car 14." rang out. Waving a good bye to her friend shyly, almost, Fable jogged to that of the car, watching as a group of nobles had already entered it. Ahh...

Forcing that of a small smile, the woman took the farthest seat away, her sword right next to her as she pulled it off her back.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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#, as written by Fetch
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War was inevitable, Ryelan knew this much. What he didn’t understand was what possessed the current ruler to send children as their saviors. As he looked around, people shoving and pushing to get to their places, he felt disgusted. Not in empathy for those whom were currently crying, but a deep feeling of filth clung to him and he felt a pressing desire to go wash his hands. A heavy sigh slipped from him and he glanced over at Matiz. He was genuinely concerned for the boy, and despite that Matiz was considered a servant, the young lord only saw him as a friend.

Still, he had a bone to pick with the one who decided to toss young adults into a war. There was an obvious answer to his issue, though, and he was aware. Young adults are far more capable and expendable than their elders. Plus, no one batted an eye unless it was a noble who died. If Ryelan met his demise in a battle, he’d be held as a martyr and a hero to the country. If Matiz on the other hand was killed, no mention of him would arise. Though, who would put their trust into foolish children? Especially when it was to win a war.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling softly under his breath as he made his way to see where they were heading. “We’re in Car fourteen, I believe.” He spoke, turning to Matiz so that the other could hear him. He might be able to turn into a weapon but he’s not a solider, too compassionate. His thoughts drifted for a moment, but he didn’t get to completely zone out as a voice rang out, telling them to board the car. He sighed heavily, walking up and entering the cart. There were a few lords’ children in the cart, none whom he had ever been interested in speaking with, but lords nonetheless. The noise of the crowd outside seemed to dim down as he made his way towards a seat that was in a section rather vacant.

Taking off his glasses, the boy cleaned them off quickly, adjusting the pair back over his eyes as he shook his head. As much swordsmanship as he possessed, he still felt like being sent to fight a war was something he shouldn't have to do. “If diplomats are paid for their job, they should be able to stop a war.” He hissed under his breath, glancing over at some girl near them. She was carrying a sword and he snorted softly to himself before looking ahead. This unit was bound to crash and burn.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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Amidst the chaos that was the train station, an air of nervousness and sweat was almost asphyxiating to the little noble named Sylvaria. Of course she was anxious, as to the fact that both she and Alastor are going into combat, though she was calm since she'd hopefully be away from her brothers and instead with Alastor, her servant. Yet there was another problem which Sylvia put to the back of her mind, only to let it nag at her is how she had the combat abilities of a fluffy bunny, a white fluffy bunny that cannot do any harm to people, but she had one thing setting her aside from other nobles and even blessed children, she could be a medic to those whom would need it.

Though something had drawn her from her thoughts, Alastor had turned and asked her a question,

"Are you ok Mistress?" his voice cut through the mayhem that was caused by the other nobles, she wasn't fond of them, though brushed the thought aside, and replied with her usual kind tone,

"Yes, Alastor. Thank you for asking." she smiled, it wasn't like smiling was rare for her, but her smile was because of her interaction with Alastor. Though her mind had blanked as she heard her name announced, and then heard the unit she was in, "Western Combat Unit 6" was it's name, and she only had one true thought, I-I'm actually going into combat? It wasn't like she was a coward, but more scared of the fact, it caused the anxiety to well up in her chest and almost choked her as it welled in her throat, she followed Alastor as he said something, though she didn't quite hear him.

Soon she and Alastor reached the train they were to get on, she thanked him as she got on, and looked at the others, some whom she recognized, One being Bellamy and his servant Lucretia, another whom Sylvia knew as Athena and her servant, whom was unnamed to Sylvia, though there were others, two whom she didn't know of, though with a gentle smile, she bowed a bit and spoke to those in the car with her, since she doubted that she was well known, even if she was the second daughter of a Duke, "Hello, I'm Sylvaria Matthas. You can just call me Sylvia, and this is Alastor, my..." even so much as saying the word "Servant" was difficult for her, since it suggested that he was under her. Though she continued none the less; "My servant. It's a pleasure to meet you all" she had taken a breath knowing the word had tasted like vinegar, though it was the best word for the time in sylvia's mind.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Mieke Furmont Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas Character Portrait: Klein Aurelius
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#, as written by CutUp
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Alastor folded his arms, and visibly became uncomfortable at the mention of him being Sylvia's servent. Sure, he is, but still even now it's a bitter pill for him to swallow. 'Why intoduce me as a servent? In makes me sound like a maid. Why not call me a bodyguard if you don't want to use the word slave?' Al thought to himself as he made sure everything that Sylvia, and he brought onboard was put away. "Call me Al if you wish. I've also been called Hellstorm as well." Alastor rather half heartedly added to Sylvia's introduction. Hellstorm was a little nickname that Al got when he was first brought in for being a Blessed Child. It was something meant to remind Alastor that he's a monster. But honestly he's taken a shine to it. He wasn't sure if any of them had heard of his nickname before or not.

Al took a seat next to a window, and watched as they pulled out of the station. Once they left Al looked up, and around at all his new 'comrades'. He knew of them all from dossier that have been provided to him by his rebel contacts. He only had the most basic of information of them. Mostly just psychological profiles, things that could provide him with a edge when deceiving them. Al then glanced over at Sylvia. He felt so guilty for deceiving her, as she's the closest thing to a friend he's had for a long time. And yet when she needed him the most he wasn't there. When she was forced into this unit he was out meeting with a contact. And by the time he found out he was too afraid to do something. He feared of what would happen to his family if tried to do anything. No, the only solution he could think of was to allow her be drafted, and protect her in battle. Not to mention the added benefit of being on the frontline for the rebels.

"Mistress...I'm sorry." Al whispered to Sylvia. "I....should have done something to protect you. I was just...afraid. Al added. "Just...stay in my sights, and I promise no harm will come to you Mistress. I will do everything in my power to make up for failing you." Al ordered with a look of determination that made every word even more sincere. While he did mean his words, the intention of them is more than just a mere apology. While he normally wouldn't speak like this to anyone 'above his station', but when it comes to Sylvia's safety he doesn't do this song and dance.